Crested Butte
Crested Butte, Colorado isn’t so much a place as a state of mind. Tucked between 10,000 foot high mountains, it’s a small pocket of civilization—a shade over two square miles—in the thick of nature. In reality, though, Crested Butte lives in the minds of its 1,600 residents. It’s rock climbing, biking, enjoying the company of others, living a carefree life, day by day.
A winding four-hour car ride away from Denver, Crested Butte is a reminder of much simpler times. Elk Avenue, its main street, is dotted with old storefronts reminiscent of the Wild Wild West. The only necessities are food, water, and a place to sleep. But what more do you need? A dog perhaps, because seemingly everyone in Crested Butte has one. Even pets seem happy. The CB lifestyle is devoid of things but full of life. Trading things for experiences is part of the essence of Crested Butte. There are a few shops downtown, but store owners wish for your presence as much as they ask for your money.
Despite taking thousands of photographs during my trip, the most memorable experiences could not have been captured in real time: mountain biking through meadows of lupine wildflowers, waking up to the first light peeking over Mt. Crested Butte, paddle boarding through the winding Slate river.
I spent my last night CB sleeping outside in a nearby campground, just a few miles outside of town. After crossing a freezing cold stream, pitching tents, and sharing stories around the camp, we fell asleep under the stars. I woke up the next morning to the soothing churning of the waterfall just 30 feet to my right. Taking a walk along the same river, I reflected on the trip, missing Crested Butte before even leaving the town. But I was grateful to spend any time here at all.
